


maybe i'm too busy being yours

by punchmonk



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, batfam shows up exclusively in cameos, dc bring kon back for the love of god, i miss my boys, tim is an emo gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 21:20:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11321967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punchmonk/pseuds/punchmonk
Summary: Tim can't help but remember someone that doesn't exist.





	maybe i'm too busy being yours

The first time Tim asks about Kon and gets a blank look, he wants to dismiss it as a joke.

Except, Dick knows better than to joke about things like this, especially after-

After.

He has a horrible sinking feeling in his chest, as he opens his phone with shaking fingers. He has no pictures of Kon; no one on the Internet has even _heard_ of a so-called Superboy. His well-loved mug with the red and black s-shield is missing. (Kon had grinned wider than he'd ever seen, so pleased with his own gift. _I get to be the first thing you think of in the morning, Tim, isn’t that great?_ ) 

In the present, Dick looks at him helplessly, asking gently, _what is it, who is it, what happened, how do I help?_

Tim can't hear him over the roaring in his ears.

 

The rest of the family must have heard, he thinks. They keep trying to check on him. Tim doesn't really care.

He dreams of warm sunlight, and of a warm back pressed to his in a fight. A laugh that's never been more alive, a fond voice as it says _my Robin_. He remembers feeling a joy unlike anything else.

If he called out right now, would anyone come rushing to the window?

He doesn't think he wants to know - doesn't think he can _handle_ knowing. So he swallows back the tightness in his throat and resumes typing. These cases aren't going to solve themselves. 

 

Steph barges in on day five. Maybe it's day eight. Tim doesn't really keep track.

"You smell," she tells him, blunt. He glances at her, she's gripping her mug of tea too tight.

He takes a moment before responding. "If only there was a way for me to stay out of everyone's way and not let them smell me," he says finally, voice scratchy with disuse.

Steph gives him the stink eye. "You know Alfred doesn't need to smell you to judge you. When was the last time you ate something that wasn't an over-processed corn chip?"

He shrugs, works silently until she sighs and says quietly, "You... You're really worrying me, Tim. Worrying all of us."

Tim looks up at her and for a long moment, doesn't know what to say. What comes out is, "How could he just... Disappear?" His voice sounds plaintive and small, even to him.

Steph sets down her tea to draw him into a hug. "I don't know, Timmy," she murmurs. Tim is grateful that she doesn't question how real Kon is, though he can see the doubt in her eyes.

 _Why just me,_ he wants to scream. _Why am I the only one who misses someone that doesn't exist?_

It's another week before he picks up his suit, still red and black. He brushes his fingers over it, careful, and asks casually, "When did I change the colors?"

Dick looks at him, carefully replies, "Dunno. You just decided to one day."

Tim feels foolish for hoping.

 

It gets bad enough that even Jason notices it.

The Red Hood plops down next to him on the rooftop and Tim pointedly doesn't flinch, carefully thinks of the tabs he’s been keeping. The Red Hood hasn't killed anyone in almost seven months. Nowadays, Jason comes to the manor to steal Alfred's pancakes and nettle Dick. __

__

__

__"Well," Jason says. "At least he won't have trouble crawling his way out of a grave, if it comes down to it."

"Doesn't mean he'd let it go," Tim says dryly. Jason snorts.

"Sorry about your boyfriend.”

Tim scrutinizes him, the unusually careful tone he says it. “You need something.”

He thinks Jason is grinning under the mask, shameless. "Steph and I are betting on if you were actually dating."

"And Cass?"

“She doesn’t need to bet,” he scoffs. “Even if she had, I'd just give her the money if I wanted to lose it that bad."

Tim smiles, a small, genuine thing. "Point." 

They sit for a while, in companionable silence, before Jason gets up.

He claps him on the shoulder. "It's hard not having closure," he says quietly. "But you can't let it take _your_ life too."

 

So Tim tries to move past it. For his family, if nothing else. He patrols and he jokes and he stays up too late, like always. If he's a little quieter, a little faster to let his mind wander, a little more prone to staring at the empty space on the kitchen counter, no one brings it up.

And then, the fear toxin happens. 

It's new, of course. And Tim gets hit, _of course_. He drops his staff, sees a lifeless body in rubble, sees one hundred failed experiments, one after another, and he thinks-

_Please, not again._

He's only vaguely aware that he's babbling Kon's name over and over before he passes out.

 

Tim wakes up to fingers stroking his hair.

"Wha-" he murmurs blearily. His voice feels scratched out.

"Hey," a voice says, achingly familiar.

Tim tries to jolt up, but is pressed back down by big, unrelenting hands.

"Kon," he chokes out.

He hears the smile before he sees it. "Didn't I tell you? Just yell. I'll hear you, every time."

He's just as beautiful as Tim remembers. The sun is, for once, shining in Gotham. Tim doesn't even notice, Kon has positioned himself so the sun is out of Tim’s eyes.

His face is outlined in a halo of light; he is the most beautiful eclipse Tim has ever seen.

Tim reaches up to cradle his face in a reverent hand. "Kon," he breathes out again.

"That's me," he says agreeably. "Sorry for the wait."

"I don't care," Tim says. "God, Kon- you're _here_ now."

Kon's eyes soften. "I missed you."

His hand fits Tim's hip perfectly, like they were molded from the same piece of clay at creation. His mouth fits Tim's own like a key sliding home.

This is how it's meant to be.

The next time Tim asks about Kon, he's met with a knowing smile and a point to the kitchen.

When he gets there, he grins impossibly wide. He doesn’t have to ask again - there is already a warm, _alive_ body leaning into his.

**Author's Note:**

> can't believe their love transcends even timelines that erase kon from the face of existence.
> 
> side note please listen to hozier's cover of do i wanna know it is so appropriate and lovely


End file.
